


Song of Erebos

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, Sam 'Boy King of Hell' Winchester, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, at the end of days, the lover of the wandering prophet returns.</p><p>freeform writing about Sam Winchester as a dark messiah, coming into his own during the apocalypse, and recently joined by the brother he thought he'd lost</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Volver; "to return"

covered in the blood of friends and lovers he comes to you

shaking and soaked and resigned

shivering in the wet night air, your hands find his face, rubbing softly at the blood and dirt on his cheeks and weaving fingers through his hair

look at me, you ask

he doesn't and you feel the scream in him building

you say his name, once, softly, and it's too much for him to remain standing; all that's held him upright has shattered, fallen away

you catch him and quickly the two of you are on your knees, hands wrapped around him

and his, reaching for you instinctively

he sobs, face tucked into your neck

you hold him as he pulls you all the way down, one hand around him at the waist and the other anchoring him at the back of his neck

his breathing evens, slows

time moves on unnoticed as he gathers himself from the strength of you where you touch, which is nearly everywhere

the closer he tucks himself into the angles of your body the more the tension leaves him

he tells you that they who once held you both so dear had restrained him, kept him from finding you

you know this, but, as always, you let him speak

tells you what they think you are, tells you what they plan to do about you, about the path you've cut through the world

he's finishes, and for a long time there is silence, laying there under the reddening sky with nothing but the scorched, blossoming earth beneath you

there is work to be done, but it will wait

you know now that no one will take him from you again

you will make certain of it


	2. Rendirse; "to surrender"

those who remain fight their way to you, along the path you've laid out for them

their certainty of victory grows with each clue you've left for them, making their war a puzzle, a journey, a feeling of accomplishment at the end of days

he remains at your side, quietly watching as you weave the fiction, his eyes tired but never faltering in his conviction that coming to you was the right choice

you set the final pieces in place, then take his hand and go to the finish line, where you await the ragged army

his restlessness is an itch under his skin, so you lay him down across an altar of bones, and take him

slowly

not just to draw out the pleasure, this indulgence is not for you

he needs you to be his center; he's been everything for you, and now you are the only thing for him

his eyes avert as you enter him, threatening tears

you lift a hand to his chin and kiss him, remaining still

pulling back you see now that his eyes are fever bright, holding your gaze steady as he moves against you

 _thank you_ , your smile says,  _thank you for choosing me_

he cries out as he comes, pulling you into his mind with an involuntary yank, and the world drops away for you both

later, as you help each other up, you see the crater that's formed around you, the mark of your love scorching the very earth

with a half formed thought you clean the both of you, but leave the dent in the ground

the sun's headed down when your would be vanquishers arrive, the ash in the air giving the sky an orange glow in the dying light

you're sitting against the wall of a tumbled down building, his sleeping head across your lap, your hand draped over him for protection, not possession

you don't hear the words they say, you hear the singing of the earth and the screaming of the fires below

you feel the warmth of the day leaving the broken concrete beneath you, the steady beating of his heart under your hand

with a thought you could separate them into quarks and gluons and fading energy, but instead you wait

you're getting awfully good at that, lately

they run out of words eventually, and when one's composure cracks and she uses the weapon you've lead them to believe will work against you, you commit to memory the looks on their faces when absolutely nothing happens, you know he will want to replay it later

she starts crying, others pull her away

some run, but you know they could not run fast enough if they posed any real threat

one remains longer than the others, a sad look in his eyes as he tells you to look out for each other

this hunter had helped your lover return to you from his wretched captivity, and until now you hadn't understood why; you realize now that your surrogate father had always seen more than he'd let on

you smile at him a little and promise that you will

when they're all gone and night has set in, he stirs in your lap

you stroke a cheek as he wakes, a question in his mind

you relay your sunset exchange with the hunters, and you feel a rush of warmth from him that you didn't hurt them

_you wouldn't have liked that_

his eyes close, and then

a grateful kiss

sitting up, he supports himself on you, noticing the flowers that have sprung up around him in his sleep

he plucks one, puts it behind your ear

you stand, reach down to pull him up beside you

time to go


	3. Ceder; "to give up"

the wet mist of the night builds until the hunters are drenched by their midnight return to the scrap yard

anger pours off of many, evaporating into the space between them all with an ugly scent of desperation, defeat

the old man walks directly to the back room where he's kept his good scotch

saving anything for the future is an exercise in frustration nowadays

he hears the hysterical argument build in the living room as the liquid swells in its diswasher-stained glass

when the yelling and the banging reach a crescendo, he reenters the space, voices quieting with his entrance

_how about instead of raising a racket in my goddamn house, go and, I don't know, actually try to save some folks?_

with a last look at the girl staring out the window

tears still on her cheeks

he retreats to his room, glass and bottle in hand

and promises himself to shoot anyone who barges in to yell at him some more, demon or no

it takes him a few moments to realize he's not alone, but the angel at least catches the glass and bottle dropped in surprise

setting them down on a table, he slowly turns back to face the old man

this smoothness of his movements and the widened eyes recalling this creature's first appearance

in this moment, as their first encounter, it is abundantly clear that the thing wearing the skin of a human is anything but, and it is angry

words soft with a deadly edge

_I left Dean with you to keep him safe from the archangels. Where is he?_

a shaking involuntary sigh that leaves him does nothing to relieve the weight of the day that hunches his shoulders or unshackle his frozen muscles from the strangling fear

_he's safe_


	4. Restablecer; "to reestablish"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after months of planning, Jess and Sam move into a home of their own in southern California the week after graduation
> 
> this is the beginning of their end
> 
> [set at the start of the development of Sam's powers]

press your broken body filled with rage into the perfect sheets of a boxcutter wonderland

where smoke and ash and plastic happiness sour the air and burn your eyes

the unforgiving sun unnoticed by the ice boxes the roaches build, eating their way into an early grave

so set apart from them that I distance myself even further as a denial a resistance a casual fuck-you to their stares and suspicions

the golden one who brought me here rusts as the old ways pull her back into childhood, adventure becomes avoidance becomes a creeping apathy that quicksands its way around our legs and hope and time

my dark center pulses with the hideous light of anger, giving me respite and suffering

happiness cannot exist here without the hooks digging into the flesh, carving their capricious words into my skin

time and place and privilege hold me hostage

when I seek autonomy I am met with reminders that I am not one of them and it’s

good

why would I want to be


	5. Escoger: "to choose"

some days I want to scream at the injustices i’ve done myself

and yet the paralysis that seeps into the everyday makes even smiling a chore

reaching into the depths of myself, elbow deep in the denials, the vanity, the rage

everything I mold out of this mess is haphazard, untenable

only able to act when lashed with the pain of wrong time, wrong place

so out of sorts with my surroundings

the people here are poison, their words a false balm, their lives two levels above

looking down from their clouds with concern and prayer and false niceties

I have to tear down what malaise remains, carve myself anew in this desert of selfishness

hearing him speak to me in dreams, the only voice of truth that can reach me:

I must cut off a part of myself in order to grow, and remain vigilant for the weaknesses of the past

in time her golden hair and taste of her false promises of a new life will fade

but to whole again I must cut my way free of them and follow, for the first time

my own road


End file.
